Two Jade Wardens flanked the gate—seven feet of motionless jade-green armor and Western plate, forged from the same authority that had held Mount Harmony for six centuries.

Lyra gestured toward them. "Show them your summons."

Kage pulled the jade scroll from his coat and held it up.

The Wardens parted in perfect synchrony. The Gate opened without sound—air rippling like heat over forge-steel, passage revealing itself.

Lyra stepped aside, clearing his path.

"Beyond here, you walk alone. The Path of Truth—one hundred paces straight ahead. Don't stop. Don't waver." Her amber eyes locked with his. "When you reach the Chamber, stand on the Supplicant's Stone at the center. Speak only when permitted."

Kage nodded once.

"And Kage?" She touched her blue scarf absently. "Whatever they ask about the Impure—answer truthfully. The Triumvirate can sense lies like hammer-strikes on flawed steel."

He studied her for a breath. She looked delicate standing there—cream dress catching the light, features painted soft by distance and evening glow.

But she'd climbed those thousand steps without a single labored breath. And beneath the softness, her eyes held something unyielding.

Kage was about to step through but paused, turning back.

"Thank you."

Her gentle smile returned. "I was merely fulfilling my duty."

Then she withdrew, putting distance between them. Kage turned and crossed the threshold.

The Path of Truth stretched before him—perfectly straight stone leading to an open pavilion. Ancient trees lined both sides, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind.

The stones beneath his feet gleamed like polished mirrors.

With each step, his reflection stared back—fractured, questioning.

He walked in silence. By the hundredth pace, he reached the Chamber of Harmony.

Open to the sky. No walls, just pillars rising like the ribs of some ancient colossus. Floor of black volcanic glass that reflected everything—every hesitation, every truth.

Three thrones arranged in a triangle.

Upon them sat two old men and one middle-aged woman, their stillness more oppressive than any blade.

Kage walked to the Supplicant's Stone at the center and stepped onto it. His reflection stared back from the obsidian beneath—divided, trapped between three seats of judgment.

He stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back.

Then lifted his gaze.

Three pairs of eyes looked down like judges weighing a flawed weapon.

"Son of the Ironstorm... before we begin the final test of your Entrance Examination, we shall pose certain questions."

The voice flowed calm and smooth from the northwest throne, like water over ancient stones—pristine, carrying the weight of centuries.

"These questions concern the unfortunate circumstances in which you found yourself."

The second voice rang from the southeast—forceful, decisive, each word falling like hammer on anvil.

"Do you believe there's reason for you to be targeted?"

The third came from directly ahead—unremarkable, ordinary, feminine. Kage marked it as the most dangerous.

His response came flat, measured:

"Of course. Plenty of reasons, in fact. I'm the bastard son of a Great Clan—any of my brothers could see this as an opportunity to remove me. Any enemy clan could strike at the Ironstorm name through me. I simply never expected the academy to play a role."

The river-voice flowed again.

"And what do you mean, child?"

Kage's tone sharpened, casual restraint giving way to something harder.

"When I discovered the Impure in the Silent Grove, I first assumed it was part of the examination. But then I found the bodies—candidates torn apart, scattered like broken tools. My conviction began to crack. Would the academy truly be this careless with lives?

"Yet at the same time, you were. The examination perimeter was supposed to be cleared of any Impure. So how did one manifest in the heart of the forest—the core of your trial? The answer seemed simple: the academy had grown negligent. But no." He paused, letting the weight settle. "The Golden Jade Academy has a reputation spanning six centuries. A seal maintained by four thousand bloodlines. Such a mistake would never slip past the Triumvirate's watch."

He shifted his gaze deliberately to the Elder seated southeast—the hammer-voice.

"Which means either all of you, or one of you, allowed it to happen."

The Elder—Aldwyn Emberforge, Kage guessed from the forge-heat radiating from his presence—chuckled, fingers stroking his beard with evident amusement.

"Oh? Continue."

Kage lowered his head briefly, then raised it with a cold smile. He shrugged.

"This means at least one of you agrees with the hypocrisy woven into the entrance examination itself."

The ordinary voice sharpened with shock.

"What?"

The river-voice from the northwest hardened, currents turning to rapids.

"Mind your tongue, child!"

Kage's smile didn't waver. His voice remained level—not respectful, not defiant. Simply certain.

"The Seven-Day Trial of Harmony. A test designed to evaluate Combat, Scholarship, Artisanship, Leadership, Healing, Poetry, and Spiritual Practice." He tilted his head slightly. "But what it truly tests is something far more insidious: obedience to an illusion."

The river-voice whom Kage assumed was probably Supreme Elder Himura Kazenami, Kage assumed—spoke with forced calm.

"You dare—"

"I dare because I survived what your examination actually tested," Kage cut in, his tone never rising. "Not harmony. Not the Seven Arts. But whether I could recognize when the system itself had become the enemy."

He gestured broadly at the Chamber.

"You dropped two thousand children—untrained, uncultivated, aged fourteen to sixteen—onto an island and told them to 'survive with harmony.' You gave them seven days to reach a gate they couldn't see, following directions they couldn't access without finding markers you didn't tell them existed. You scattered wild beasts throughout the forest. You built construct guardians to attack them. You created artificial scarcity of food and water."

His eyes moved from throne to throne.

"And then—while they scrambled to prove their worth through your 'Seven Arts'—you allowed an Impure to manifest in the Silent Grove. Maybe by negligence. But I want to believe by design. Because it is a bit of a question, and unbelievable that the Triumvirate had no idea while an Impure the size of a Carrier was being smuggled into the examination ground."

Aldwyn leaned forward, interest flickering in his gaze. "Continue."

Kage's voice dropped, colder now.

"Either of which it was, you all wanted to see who would break. Who would run. Who would sacrifice others to save themselves. You wanted to watch children make impossible choices under apocalyptic pressure and then judge them for their choices."

He stepped forward on the Supplicant's Stone, his reflection fracturing beneath him.

"But here's the flaw in your methodology: You're not testing for the world we have. You're testing for the world you wish existed."

The woman's voice—Arch Harmonist Zera Von Tsubaki, perhaps—sharpened dangerously.

"Explain yourself, boy."

Kage met her eyes without flinching.

"In the real world—the world I live—there is no harmony. There's an Ocean King that will make continental travel a death sentence. Take this island for example, a perfect illusion of peace has been crafted for anyone, made to believe that the Archipelagos are safe. Meanwhile, the Impure suppression on lesser islands are getting tougher by day, the Academy Wardens are dying and instead of sending a petition to the Great Clans and Houses, the Grand Academy is silent… obviously because they don't want to shatter that illusion they've created for everyone. Look at the world. There is no such thing as a safe world, there's no such thing as a peaceful world. What you all uphold is an illusion that is on the verge of breaking."

His hands spread, almost mocking.

"You're training students to help each other? To show mercy? To answer philosophical questions while standing on corpses?"

Supreme Himura's voice rose. "Those values are what separate us from—

"From what?" Kage's interruption was surgical. "From the Impures? The Impures don't care about your Seven Arts. They don't negotiate. They don't value poetry. They tear apart anyone weak enough to hesitate."

He paused, letting silence fill the Chamber.

"You want to know what I did in the Silent Grove? I killed the Impure. Alone. With a weapon I crafted from a dead beast's fangs. I didn't form an alliance. I didn't look for help. I didn't wait for someone stronger to arrive. Because in the real world, no one is coming to save you."

Aldwyn's fingers stopped stroking his beard. His voice came measured, testing.

"And the other examinees? The ones you robbed?"

Kage smiled—cold, humorless.

"I did them a kindness."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Kindness?"

"They learned something your test would never have taught them: that the most dangerous predators aren't the ones who attack you in daylight. They're the ones who wait until you're vulnerable. Who study your patterns. Who strike when you've let your guard down."

He gestured back toward the Path of Truth.

"Those eight students slept simultaneously around a dead fire in a forest full of predators. Not one thought to post watch. They trusted in the illusion you all created for them—in the belief that because they were in an examination, the rules would protect them. And I showed them the truth: rules don't matter when you're dead."

Supreme Himura's voice hardened. "You stole their scrolls. Their tokens. You nearly ensured their failure."

"I ensured they learned," Kage countered immediately. "Which is supposedly the academy's purpose, isn't it? Education?"

He met the Elder's gaze directly.

"I left them with supplies. I left them directional markers. I didn't harm them. I simply took what they couldn't defend—and in doing so, taught them a lesson worth more than any philosophical question in those scrolls: Competence matters more than intention."

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